Sherlock and John sprinted down the long, cream hallway as fast as their legs could take them, opening any and every door they came across.
A shot rang out that made Sherlock's blood run cold. He dashed towards the sound, praying that it was Moriarty on the ground not Oxford.
He slammed the last door open and saw a body laying in the dark and damp corner. He rushed to where the body laid and kneeled over it, checking to see who it was.
Sherlock, the man who always had something to say was, for the first time in his life, was suddenly speechless.
Fresh and dried blood mixed together and bruises covered the whole body and a bloody chain was attached to the ankle. He moved the hair out of the face and looked down at the beaten face of his sister.
He chocked back a sob. His worst dream came true, his beautiful, smart, loving sister was dead. He slowly sat down next to Oxford and held her body in his arms cradling her like a baby.
He sat, sobbing (crying for the first time in years) silently, rocking her until John found him and Mycroft a short while after. John had tears falling down his cheeks and Mycroft just stood there in shock.
Then everything went into slow mode for them. EMT's came a took Oxford from Sherlock's arms and put her on the stretcher. One EMT tried to clean Sherlock from Oxford's blood, but was unsuccessful as he pushed everyone away.
From the video camera, the person watching everything that just happened was almost in tears. They turned the camera off before swirling around in the chair they were sitting on. "Fuck you Moriarty."
Jim sitting behind the person watching Sherlock being driven away, just laughed at the comment. "Oh dear me, it seems that you were the one who agreed to the plan Oxford Holmes."
SAY WHAT NOW??? Big THANK YOU to fashiongirl1112 for the suggestions that got my creativity going again.